A Certain Romance
by Nilly's Issue
Summary: The longer Percy and Annabeth are best friends, the more she begins to think about him… that way. Little bit of hot romance, nothing explicit for young readers.


_Title credits go to the Arctic Monkeys, my new English rock band obsession. _

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><p><strong>Summary: The longer Percy and Annabeth are best friends, the more she begins to think about him… that way. Little bit of hot romance, nothing explicit for young ears.<strong>

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><p><em>"I believe very strongly that when it comes to desire, when it comes to attraction, that things are never black and white, things are very much shades of grey."<em>

_-Brian Molko_

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><p>Annabeth isn't attracted to Percy at all.<p>

First of all, she's only twelve. Boys are still alien and half of her is waiting for him to start picking his nose. They're all immature anyway. Besides, Percy's short. And his hair sticks up funny and he's got acne all over his chin. He's also really small. She bets she weighs more than him, which is _so _not right and Percy has absolutely nothing on Luke. Luke is big and tall and strong. Percy's not.

That sort of thinking never even occurs to her once.

But she gets to know Percy. She won't admit, but he grows on her. Like some black haired leech that won't ever go away. He makes her laugh a lot. His oblivious and slightly naïve nature is funny. It's like Percy is staring intently at one puzzle piece and completely misses the rest of the picture.

Percy slowly but surely wiggles his way up her ladder of friends. He's still annoying, but he's a fighter. And slowly she realizes that he isn't naïve, he just chooses to act like that. Percy would rather smile than dwell on his problems.

Annabeth wishes she knew how to do that.

Percy's a kid. Luke is… the future. He represents peace and happiness and love.

Then Luke betrays her. And she's angry. But she's still attracted to him. How could she not? They have a past. They used to have a past. She's going to get him back. Save him. He saved her. She could forgive him for trying to kill Percy. Percy didn't die. Annabeth could fix Luke.

Before she walks off to start over with her father, Percy gives her this look.

She's struck by the way the sun is making his eyes stand out even more. They're such an intense green; Percy doesn't look at you, he looks _through_ you_. _

Annabeth decides that even if Percy's a little dense; she likes his eyes. They're pretty.

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><p>She supposes Percy's gotten a little taller over the school year, a little more mature. They're still not the same height. And now, since she knows him pretty well, she holds it over his head. It's kind of funny.<p>

The rage that rushes through her veins when Percy is about to get his butt kicked by those giants is scary. She definitely doesn't see it coming.

Camp is dying and then they're rushing across the country again. Percy is still as impulsive and rash as always. He still manages to awe her with his rare bouts of genius sometimes. Annabeth really wants to call him dumb, prove her seniority, but Percy will just come up with something out of nowhere that will save the day and leave her wondering when she missed his 36 on the ACTs. Then he says something stupid and the world starts turning on its axis once more.

Luke's betrayal still burns her. It lingers at the bottom of her heart, eating away at the hope that still resides there.

The resemblance between Percy and Thalia starts to stick out more. It's apparent in the way they both get so angry when something attacks their friends, how they feel spited by the gods but would never leave them, and most definitely in the way Percy stares right through her and Annabeth wants to run and hide from the transparency he makes her feel.

She doesn't know why she panics when she finds out Percy's gotten turned into a gerbil while she was getting pampered. But the idea of Percy _not being there _is slightly terrifying and she nearly squeezes him to death when he's short and human and standing on two legs right in front of her.

Luke. Luke. Luke. Luke. He looks nice and warm. Inviting, like he wants her to go with him. Annabeth is going to do it. She's going to ignore the vivid stabs of green crisscrossing her vision and go with Luke. She can ignore the green. She can survive without Percy. Hands are pulling her back and the vision's fading and _heaven is dying_ and suddenly all she has left is water and green. The sheer rush of loneliness is overwhelming and she finds herself jumping in Percy's arms, clutching onto him like the lifesaver he is.

Percy's arms are warm and she can feel his hair pressed up against her temple and his scrawny chest against hers and his stupid thin hands drawing circles on her back.

Percy isn't Luke. Percy will never be Luke. She whispers in his ear, because it's the truth, and she knows that it is, "Thanks for never leaving."

He doesn't hear her and she's perfectly okay with it.

Annabeth's head collides with the rock and she knows no more. The first thing she sees when she wakes up is Percy's face, tight with worry, looming above her.

He's praying.

And she doesn't know who he's praying to, because this is Percy, no one predicts what he's going to do.

It's flattering and the stupid grin he gives her when she blinks up at him feels okay.

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><p>Percy's changed over the last the few months. It hasn't even been that long, but he has. He managed to bargain for a few more inches and she's dismayed to find out they're now the same height. His hair is different, too. He must not have gotten it cut lately, or maybe doesn't have the time, and it hangs in long bangs over his forehead. The black contrasts darkly with the intense green that still hasn't changed. It makes him look a lot more reckless and a lot more <em>mature<em> than he used to be. And she finds it kind of ridiculous that she keeps looking at him like he's just dropped from the sky, but it's hard _not _to.

Thalia sometimes catches her doing it and all she does is chuckle—she _chuckles_—and winks at her.

What the heck does that mean?

She's obviously not the only one who has noticed the changes, because she hears the craziest conversation ever as she's walking back from archery classes.

"Have any of you seen Percy lately?" a girl gushes.

"Oh my gosh, yes! He got like… _super _hot!" another replies, her hand clapped over her mouth as if the secret will fly away and Percy will find out what they're saying.

The last of the trio whispers quietly, "I just want to touch his hair… and his eyes! Ugh, they melt me."

_They melt her?_ Annabeth thinks incredulously. She's never heard any girls in camp talk about him like this before and suddenly now they are? So he grows a few inches and looks a lot better and loses all the baby fat and his arm muscles look great when he's wearing that black shir—…

"Oh please, what chance do _we_ stand? Annabeth is totally going to ask him out one day. I guarantee it."

One of them barks out in laughter harshly. "_Annabeth_? She'll never have the guts to do that! She probably doesn't even realize that her best friend is like _insanely gorgeous_!"

Protectiveness flares in her stomach. They only care about him because he looks better. It is so stupid. Who do they think they are? They don't even know him. They have no idea what kind of person he is, how good he is.

Annabeth runs away after that; the feeling in her stomach got too uncomfortable.

Percy and Thalia butt heads just as much as she figured they would. They were too alike.

She doesn't know why she's so anxious about dancing with Percy. She means; it's_ Percy_.

Then that monster is looming over Thalia and Percy and Percy's face is pinched and he can barely hold himself up and _there's no way anything is going to hurt him_ so she jumps.

Luke. Luke. Luke. And how could he? Why would he do this to her?

His eyes aren't gold anymore and they're so cold they freeze her insides.

Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain. She can't survive this. The fire's going to burn her alive and she's going to get crushed. Her joints are popping, bones cracking, will crumbling.

Green. Percy. She knows he isn't real but the vision is so reassuring she can't help but believe in him.

Then he does come. He's here.

He's fighting Atlas. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He's holding up the sky. Don't die, don't die, don't die.

He's holding up the sky for _her_. He came across the country for _her_.

Percy saves the day once again.

Then she's finally getting that dance she was so eager for and the music in the background is soft and hesitant, and Percy's skin is glowing in the low lighting. She can't help but mourn the darker shade of his eyes. But his hand is warm on her waist, and those gray strands slide through her fingers easily and he's alive and breathing right in front of her.

Every once in a while she'll get a flash of blue, but it passes. Along with the pain, it passes.

Luke. Percy. The green is taking over the blue.

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><p>They're going to a movie together. Or, they were supposed to until that stupid, pretty redhead fell out of the building after Percy. Percy looks good, though. He's a little taller, but she grew too, so they're the same height. She always notices height. His hair is still messy, covered with what she hopes is flour and not dandruff.<p>

_Rachel _is her name and Annabeth doesn't know why, but suddenly she has the strong urge to stick her ginger face in a toilet and flush. Repeatedly.

She won't admit it's jealous. She's Annabeth; Annabeth doesn't get jealous.

But, _holy crap_, she's jealous. She despises this girl. And she knows that if Rachel wasn't trying to take Percy away from her, they might actually get along Of course, she won't say that out loud.

Percy has no idea what's going on. She's kind of glad for his utter obliviousness now.

Jealousy burns hot.

The more she's around Percy the more she… Her face flushes and her fingers start to tremble and her stomach does this odd twisting thing, and why is the room temperature so hot?

They have their first hug. They've touched each other before, but that was accidental. Tackles, protection, and saving the other's butt is a part of the trade. But this is different. Her arms are around his waist and she can feel the indent of his spine and how _warm _he is, and his stomach is pressed against hers and… she needs to calm down.

Annabeth rests her cheek on his shoulder and prays to the gods that he can't feel her heart pounding out of her chest.

Then they're on this quest and suddenly they have all of this _alone _time.

Percy needs to wear longer shirts. He's taking off his sweatshirt, and he's pulling it over his shoulders with both arms and his shirt rides up and Annabeth has to rush to pick her mouth up from the floor before he sees her.

She needs to stop this. He's her friend. That's it.

Annabeth has a really weird dream that night. She dreams that she's sitting on the beach with Percy, except, he's shirtless. He starts to lean over her and his lips are really pink and then they're _kissing_. Annabeth wakes up, bewildered and fevered; part of her exhilarated, and part of her relieved to find Percy sleeping with his back to her; they were never kissing.

She needs to lay off the caffeine.

Percy is so stupid. Why is he trying this? Why does he try and sacrifice himself for her? And why is he looking at her like that?

Percy Jackson won't die.

And she definitely has no idea what she's doing, but her hand is wrapping around his neck and she's pulling him against her and his lips are on hers and they're _kissing_. It's short and simple and desperate and _hot_. At least, she thinks it is. His lips are soft and they taste like mint with an undercurrent of sweet salt. The combo doesn't sound appealing but it _really_ is.

Then he's _gone_. And all those feelings, all of it doesn't _matter_. Nothing matters because the world is dark and cold and _how could he give himself up like that_? She wasn't worth it. Why did he have to do it? It feels like his eyes are seared into her head. She can still see his ridiculously happy grin. The warmth of his arms around her is like a ghost that never leaves and she just wants to _itchscratchclaw_ it away, but it doesn't leave. He doesn't leave.

She has dreams of Percy dying every night. Her overactive imagination sees him burning alive, screaming, sees him exploding into red dust, and lastly she sees him drowning; that has to be the worst, it makes no sense, because Percy can't drown, but the imprint of him floating face down in the water _never goes away_.

It burns. It burns hotter than jealousy. Hotter than rage. Hotter than life. It eats at her and she misses the warm of the other feeling.

She doesn't like grief.

Then he's _back_.

The world explodes into color again.

He was with another girl, _another girl_. While she was crumbling and dying he was flirting with a beautiful god.

He came back.

Percy came back to Annabeth.

But the jealousy is burning again and she can't find the right words to say. All of these feelings are all mixing together and she keeps seeing Luke and Percy and she runs down that hill without looking back, because Annabeth is going to hide from all of them.

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><p>Percy and Annabeth don't talk very much over the school year. She wants to see him, make sure he's okay, but she doesn't have the guts and it hurts too much.<p>

She dreams about him all the time. They're different every night she has them. Sometimes she sees him fighting monsters, all reckless and heroic. Other times they're just sitting on top of a grassy hill; Percy's calm, she's calm. They're just sitting. They don't say anything. And the last dream she had, a few nights before she left for camp, was the most vivid. It was Percy, dressed in black, candlelight flickering darkly over his skin. His eyebrows are drawn together and angry, determined. He's reaching for her, his strong hand latches around the back of her neck and draws her in, his lips look full and bitten. They start kissing and even in the dream it's hot; she's burning. Percy freezes and she stops with him, wondering why he'd halt this. Annabeth's hand drifts down his chest and unconsciously her fingers lock around a sharp point. Dread deadens her emotions. Luke is standing behind Percy, his lips curled into a sneer. Luke pulls the sword out of Percy's chest and the dream ends with Annabeth screaming forever.

She hates that dream.

Luke visits her. She looks into his golden eyes—ones that are so different from the blue she knew—and knows that she needs to push him away. The desire for him to come home throbs in her chest, but the deep-rooted sense of betrayal aches more.

She stares at the closed door for a full ten minutes, wondering where along the line she failed everyone she loved so horribly.

She Iris-messages Percy that night, and when the mist clears, Percy is sitting on a bed with a purple-splattered cover, casually tossing popcorn at a red-headed girl who's painting in front of him. She turns around, giving him a fake look of annoyance before going back to her artwork, laughing with Percy as a kernel sticks to the paint, right over the creature's eyes.

Annabeth destroys the message and tries to ignore the burning in her eyes.

_Rachel_, with her pretty hair and freckles, so undamaged and innocent; Annabeth can almost understand why Percy wants the escape, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with.

She heard from Selena that Beckendorf and Percy were leaving on their mission, and paced in her cabin for a full two hours.

Only Percy limps up the hill and _gods_ she wants to grab him and never let go.

Beckendorf is dead but Annabeth can only see Percy.

"_A single choice shall end his days." _

She's heard this before. She read it. She knows these lines. This is karma slapping her in the face. This is the world telling her that _you can't win_.

Percy's hands are trembling and he looks angry, not depressed, not scared, mad. She's pretty sure that everyone in the room pities him more because of that. She can hear everyone thinking,_ He's going to try so hard and die_.

And God damnit, _it's not fair_.

What the hell had Percy ever done to the world? He saved everyone. He helped people. He was a good person.

He deserved better than death by fate.

It was so _stupid_.

She goes to the training room and absolutely destroys four dummies without a thought and it doesn't help her at all.

Percy keeps looking at her funny. At first, she thinks she's delusional and only seeing what she wants to see, but he is. He never elaborates, but it makes her feel good.

And when he's says: "Don't I get a kiss for good luck?" she very nearly keels over, but keeps a straight face and tells him maybe.

Maybe.

Percy's all about humor. She could never know whether he was being sarcastic or not.

She jumps in front of the knife and doesn't hesitant. She figures that this seals it; he should know now. Percy should have figured out that she is totally and completely in love with him.

His hand is sweaty in hers but he goes along smoothly with the cute comment. It doesn't even faze him.

She's pretty sure that's encouraging.

She figures that the head wound is messing with her, but Percy looks like a god, controlling the water like that. Annabeth dismisses the comparison with a grimace.

She launches herself at Kronos, but Percy holds her back, his hands are wrapped protectively around her waist and he's hauling her away.

Luke. Percy. Luke. Percy.

Kronos.

Luke.

It suddenly makes so much sense. The feelings she has for Luke are… nothing like the feelings she has for Percy. They are completely different. The role that Luke is leaving behind is nothing like the role Percy is about to play.

Luke's heart stops beating.

Annabeth's, worn and beaten, aches, too; although it's lighter, and radiates relief.

The rest of the time in Olympus sweeps by in a haze of pain, Percy's arms catching her, and mournful celebration.

She sees Percy ghosting through the crowd sometimes, somber faced, but more calm than she's ever seen him before. It makes her stomach flare, but it's a good feeling.

Percy denies being a god _for her_.

She plops down on the picnic table next to him, nerves tight with anticipation, and starts talking to Percy. He's got this look on his face, one that draws her in like crazy. She wraps her arms around his neck and _damn_ has he always been that _attractive_?

Percy Jackson turned into a man while she was gone.

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><p>They're sinking down in bubble Percy made. Fish are swimming around it, bulging eyes giving them comical looks. Not that she really notices.<p>

No, her hands are tangled in Percy's hair and his lips are trapped in hers, a pleasant heat pulsing up her spine. Gravity works oddly trapped in the water, but she's able enough to wrap her legs around his waist, since he's so _tall _now.

Waves of heat wash through her eyelids and she has to remind herself to slow down. She's too young for this.

Unaware, her hands start underneath his shirt, tugging it up. She wants to touch him. She wants to feel his muscles under her fingertips, feel them move.

"Annabeth," he sighs, his breath hot against her neck, "We should probably slow down."

She grumbles petulantly, pulling back from him and putting both her hands on his jawline. "I suppose so."

This time she draws him forward and the kiss is slow, gentle. Like they're first kiss should have been. His lips are soft and she can taste the frosting left behind on his teeth.

"So," he says. "How was our second first kiss?"

She laughs and puts her forehead against his. The next thing she says is so _Percy _it's funny.

"Awesome."

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><p>She hasn't seen Percy in eight months.<p>

Annabeth covers up the giant hole in her heart with vengeance in her brain. She doesn't think about how lonely she is. She doesn't think about how she keeps seeing him around every corner. And she definitely doesn't think about how much his not being there hurts her.

But another side of effect of Percy-deficiency is how _frustrated_ she gets.

They haven't even…done anything before and she's so… hot and bothered.

It startles her at first, and when Rachel catches her running for _recreation_ on the beach one morning, she laughs and claps her on the back, "I'm sure without Sir Hormones you're just going stir-crazy, aren't you?"

Annabeth looks at her like she's growing a third head and Rachel shakes her head with a smile on her face. "You're gonna see him in a couple weeks, Annabeth. I promise. And I'm a pretty reliable source."

Annabeth really hopes so.

Percy has his arm around another girl. At first, Annabeth is about ready to explode. But as she walks closer, she notices that the girl is young, and she keeps tossing blushed looks at the beefy blonde kid to her left.

She stomps in front of Percy and watches his breathe quiver at the sight of her. Her heart throbs.

"You remember me, Jackson?" she asks bluntly, hand flat against his chest, thumb stroking his skin and belying her harsh tone. Everyone around them can tell she doesn't mean it.

He gives her a coy smile, eyes soft with pain and relief—that look she's sure of—and his hand cups her cheek.

"Every single minute."

She laughs, it's more hysterical, because tears falling down her face and latches onto him like she's never going to let go again. Who knows, maybe she won't.

They don't kiss, satisfied with just being with each other. Everyone is patting Percy on the back and giving him hugs and looking with bewilderment at the Roman camp. Annabeth is utterly unimpressed. She scoffs when they say that they've made Percy their leader. It doesn't surprise her, not in the least. Percy was born and forced into leadership. A part of her wonders sometimes, what Percy would be like it he wasn't a demigod, would he still be the same person?

She ignores herself.

She does think it might pose to be a bit of a problem with Jason back. And the way Piper and that Reyna girl look at each other is quite terrifying, too. But she doesn't care. She doesn't care that there's a war hanging over their heads. She doesn't care that Nico is missing. She doesn't care about any of it.

All she sees, breathes, and thinks about is Percy.

She stays attached to his side the rest of the day, waiting for alone time. He gives her a knowing look, those gorgeous green eyes pouring into her.

They know what's going to happen.

Her mind is at peace. She never realized how calming being around him was. It was a contradiction, because Percy was always on the move, but he was sweet serenity to her.

Strange, getting her boyfriend back was making her all cheesy.

Amongst the chaos, Percy was pulling her from the crowd, leading her through a series of abandoned buildings. His hand was warm in hers, and she had to laugh, stifling it as a Percy sh'ed her, a grin on his face. They tiptoed around the sheds, full of weapons and tools, until they were standing in the alley of a city.

They were in a city.

Cobblestone streets, asphalt, and red-brick buildings soothe her eyesight. It was like a watered-down version of New York.

"It's full of people like us. Demigods." Percy said. "They live and go to college and don't worry about monsters and live _normally _because the borders are protected."

Light from a nearby streetlamp was bathing his face a warm gold. Annabeth's heart expanded with affection she couldn't even begin to describe.

"It's… beautiful," she whispered. "Percy…"

He gave her a conspiratory glance and tugged her along once more. "Besides that, I thought we'd need… alone time."

Annabeth's heart flared.

Percy abruptly turned into a nice house. A house that probably put a roof over some nice, suburban family with plenty of money and two point five kids. The inside was like a page out of the "Tour of Homes" and decorated in warm brown and tan colors. Plush furniture was organized in the living room, the kitchen was well-stocked, and it smelled like vanilla.

"Percy," she breathed, looking around in wonder. "Who's place is this?"

"Mine. Sort of. There are perks to becoming the praetor, I guess. Never really been in here until tonight."

They stared at each other under the low lighting.

Before Annabeth even knew what she was doing, she was wrapped in his arms. His hands gripped her hair, pulling her tighter against him. His breath was rough and she smashed her lips against his. An animalistic _need _was taking her over. She wanted to touch him.

Annabeth retracted her hand from around his neck, jerking her fingers up his shirt; his skin was burning, abs tensing and relaxing with his breath. She flattened her palm against his ribs, stroking the rise and fall of his muscles, chest expanding as he breathed. She felt the slight bump of a battle scar. He was pressed up against the wall, giving her leverage. Percy broke away from her, gasping for air.

She pressed her head against his shoulder, breathing roughly. "I've always the hated the couple reuniting over sex. Seemed shallow and cheap."

Percy kisses her neck, causing an unintentional groan to escape from her lips. "Feel free to stop me at any moment."

"I don't want to."

He smirks against her skin, "There are more comfortable places to do this."

"Good point."

They didn't even wait until they were through the doorway before they started again, Percy tripping and falling onto the bed. Annabeth crawls on top of him, straddling his hips with her thighs.

Annabeth's fingers went back to his shirt.

"You want it off?" he asked between kisses.

She blinked, wondering what this meant, where they were going.

"Yes."

Annabeth pulled it over his head for him. She trapped his head between her forearms, fingers stroking his hair. She was stretched out on top of him, her shirt had ridden up and her bare skin burned where it met his. His hands roamed along her torso, exploring, testing.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, green eyes drilling into hers.

She debated for a moment, their breath mingling. "We _are_ only sixteen…" she drifted.

"After everything we've seen, does age matter at the moment?" Percy pointed out. "Sorry. I'm not going to convince you to do something you don't want to do."

"No," Annabeth said firmly. "I want to do this. I've _wanted _to do this for a while. For forever."

Percy's fingers played with the hem of her Camp Half-Blood shirt.

She leaned down, whispering into his ear, "You want it off?"

He looked at her incredulously. "'Hello, my name is Percy. I'm a sexually frustrated sixteen year old guy whose girlfriend just asked if she should take her clothes off.'"

Annabeth took that as a yes.

She giggled and pulled it over her shoulders. Percy's eyes wandered over her torso, fingering the cotton her tank-top. Annabeth put her hand over his, sliding it up her waist. "It's okay," she whispered.

Percy looked at her hesitantly, warm fingertips dancing up her back.

She missed him. She missed him so much.

Annabeth drew his lips back to hers, propping herself on her elbows. Fire pulsed through her head, matching Percy's breath mingling with hers; her bare skin pressed against his. His abs tensed underneath her. Shivering—she _shivered_—with pure pleasure, Annabeth's vision nearly whited out as he nibbled on her bottom lip. There were no words to describe how _ecstatic _he was making her feel.

Bliss, unadulterated bliss.

Percy's fingers smoothed over her bra strap. In response, because she _wanted_ to do this _so bad_, Annabeth hooked her thumb in his basketball shorts.

Heat engulfed her mind; she wasn't thinking straight.

This was _Percy_. He was alive and breathing. Right in front of her. _Eight months_, he was gone.

"Annabeth," Percy mumbles, seeming to sense her distress. His hand fell from her back. "I don't think we should do this now."

Eyebrows furrowing, she draws away and looks into his eyes. "Why?"

He takes a shuddering breath, as if it pains him to say this. "Because I don't think either of us are really thinking clearly."

"You're the _guy_," she whines. "You're not the one who's supposed to stop me!"

Percy smiles that smile she's missed, dreamed about, and mourned for eight months, and realizes he's right.

"It's not that I _don't _want to… You know I do. But, I don't want to second guess this later, okay? Neither do you."

Annabeth sighs—he's too good for her—and rolls off him, flopping onto the bed.

Percy grabs her arm and pulls it over his chest. The adrenaline (or was it passion?) drains from her body and she rests her head next to his.

His face is inches from hers, soft and warm. Beautiful green eyes, the ones she fell in love with, simply look at her, admiring.

"Even when I couldn't remember anything, I remembered you." He said.

Annabeth's heart stirs with affection. "That doesn't make any sense."

He rolls his eyes, like he's done so many times before, and for some ridiculous reason the reaction has her eyes watering.

"You know what I mean. I never forgot you. Even when I was drowning in… nothing… I remembered your name."

Annabeth kisses his temple, pleasantly exhausted. She doesn't know what to say; there are no words to express what she's feeling, how much she's feeling.

"Why don't we sleep now? Been a long day." She says softly.

Percy nods, blinking slowly, looking.

He falls asleep some time later, head turned towards her. Annabeth figures that watching someone sleep should be creepy, but under these circumstances she doesn't care. She sits up and grabs a blanket that's sitting at the foot of the bed, spreading it over Percy and curling up at his side.

"I missed you," she whispers. There's more. There's always more, but that seems to cover it, for now, at least. She missed him and she loves him.

She falls asleep some hours later, lulled to sleep by Percy's breath and the warmth he seems to radiate.

Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson sleep together for the first time.

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><p><strong>See? Nothing too sexy!<strong>

**Although, I did get a little flushed at some parts xD **

**I've never really written an almost-sex scene. How did I do? Be honest, but don't rip me apart, children. **

**Good ole' Rick never gave me any sexy time, so I decided to write my own. I absolutely do not care if it was in character or not. I'm simply in love with all the gooey, dripping, heated passion all up in this room. **

**Nom, nom, nom. :) **

**Now I feel all single and stuff. Anyways, thanks for reading, and hopefully reviewing :) **

**Arctic Monkeys! Arctic Monkeys! Arctic Monkeys! Look them up. They're amazing. Don't be surprised to find I've ripped off more titles from them in the future.**

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><p>I know you all probably don't care about my love life. But, I went over to my neighbor's house because she printed my English homework, and then she said I could have her computer, and her grandson was there... her super <em>cute <em>grandson, and he offered to carry it for me. Anyways, he dropped it off, and as he was leaving he mentioned that we should hang out later... Act Two: I walk their dog every other day, and he went with me tonight, and we talked and I was squealing like a five-year-old girl :) THEN. We ate dinner at her house and he walked me home. :) There. Lil bit of cute romance :)

**I love you all, and go in peace! :D**


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